


Roll Here In Our Ashes

by emberfire411



Category: Winx Club
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Undercover Missions, post-season 8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emberfire411/pseuds/emberfire411
Summary: There are darker beings at work behind the stars going out. After being caught, Baltor offers to help expose them in exchange for his own life. The Magix Council agrees - if he has help.
Relationships: Bloom/Valtor | Baltor (Winx Club)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

"As you can see, we wish to be...discreet with this."

Bloom didn't respond. There were droves of information in front of her - holographic readouts, physical files spread out on a large oak table, and a live camera feed on a datapad near her left hand. The image was of a cell, somewhere in the basement of the Magix Council's headquarters. The image crinkled every few moments, a result of the old closed-loop system they were using. There wasn't a magic buffer to make the picture clear - according to the paper file next to the datapad, there was no magic on that entire floor of the facility.

"Why do you believe him?" Bloom asked, and on the datapad the figure in the cell _turned_ as if he heard her. "He'll lie about anything."

"The information provided was...compelling."

The Magix Council was old. There were seven of them, one for each of the major star systems that made up the dimension. An odd number in case a tie vote needed to be broken. Five men, two women, voted on by the governing bodies of the planets. _Not_ the general population. Their identities were concealed for public appearances and speeches. Bloom had first met them when she'd gone to testify about the Trix raising the Army of Decay when she was sixteen. Since then they seemed to cross paths on a yearly basis, debriefing them on the latest threats to the dimension. Even then, she wasn't allowed to know their names, leaving her to identify them by physical features instead. Two had died since her first time - old age and a heart attack. But even the new, 'younger' replacements were in their mid forties. They had seen the fall of Sparx and the rise of the Army of Decay.

Bloom always thought they'd be smarter than this.

"It's not _compelling information_. It's _Baltor_."

The newer ones do most of the talking to her. A woman from Linphea's system with pale green eyes, and a man who had once let slip he was from Diaspro's home planet, whose hair was just starting to turn salt and pepper. Probably from the stress of the job. He straightened up in his chair first.

"We went to Lumenia to speak with Prince Argan. While the planet's core provides him with more power than most lumens, there's no way there was enough for Baltor to be resurrected."

"Or not without help."

"And we don't know what _kind_ of help that was."

"The Ancestresses -"

"Were different," interrupted one of the older council members, a man from the Harmonic Nebula with a long white beard and laugh lines around his eyes. "The Ancestral Witches had no problem taking credit for their misdeeds, from Havram to your own planet. They paraded Baltor around every battle when he was first created. Whoever is pulling the strings on him this time…"

"Remains in the shadows," Bloom looked back at the live feed of Baltor's cell, then to readouts of stars around Prometia. "And the stars aren't recovering."

With the introduction of the mini-core, Orion's home planet was thriving just like it had been before. But nearby stars in the system weren't regaining energy at even half the speed of Prometia. Or a quarter. Something - or someone - was still hoarding it for themselves.

And it couldn't be Baltor, who was stripped of every ounce of (stolen) power the second his body was pulled from the rubble of the asteroid.

She sighed. "So there's someone else. You suspected when the stars didn't come back, and Baltor confirmed it."

"Yes."

Bloom narrowed her eyes. "But...that's not it, is it? Because if it was, the rest of the Winx would be here."

The Council exchanged looks, and Bloom saw their emotions openly - they seemed too focused on each other to care. _Nerves_. A bad sign. She let out a small breath, crossed her arms, and leaned back in her chair, waiting for whatever sales pitch she was about to be given.

It was Green Eyes - the newer woman from Linphea - who started, and she normally spoke when the Council wanted something from _any_ of the Winx. Tecna once said there was a science behind it, being more inclined to help fellow women.

( _That's such a bullshit idea_ , Aisha had said when Tecna brought it up. _The Trix are 'fellow women' and I'd still drown them if I got the chance._ )

"Baltor's contact with this higher up force was limited, but there were many plans in place. The business with the Prime Stars was a backup in case there were problems draining stars of their light. Trying to obtain your Cosmix power was also a backup plan. This person or persons prepared for quite a few eventualities. Including a rendezvous should Baltor be captured, and then escape."

"So...you want to use him as bait?"

"Given his long list of crimes and overall threat level, we had agreed the best course of action would be execution. He, of course, was less than thrilled with the idea."

Bloom gave a small chuckle, sparing the datapad another glance. "I can imagine," she muttered under her breath, and she could. Baltor was a lot of things, but being a master of self-preservation was a trait Bloom had overlooked more times than she could count on both hands. It had been her undoing.

"So, based on the information provided, and after very careful consideration," Green Eyes paused before continuing in a far-too-neutral voice, "we agreed to spare his life, should he be able to lure this greater threat out and capture or destroy it."

Her jaw dropped, and Bloom stood up so quickly the chair clattered to the floor behind her. "Are you all crazy?"

They stared at her in shock, and the two oldest council members started raising their voices at the same time. "Now young lady -"

"There is really _no_ need for -"

"He committed _genocide!_ " Bloom yelled, which seemed to shut them up just as fast. "He's made of pure darkness, he's made _my_ life pure hell, and you all want him to just... _walk away_ scott free from this?"

"Of course not," the younger man from Isis spoke up again. "Should he succeed in this task, Baltor will be frozen and sent back to Omega -"

"Because that worked so well when you did it last time?"

"Because it has received the most technologically advanced upgrades from the dimension's brightest minds. And the guards stationed there are the best men and women we have who shoot first and ask questions second. Every improvement was a direct result of Baltor pointing out a fault in the old system. The possibility of him breaking out a second time is slimmer than a black hole opening up and swallowing us all in the next two minutes."

At that, Bloom fell silent, though her hands were still balled into fists so tight she was losing sensation in her fingers. Seemingly satisfied with her silence, the Man from Isis waved a hand. Behind her, Bloom heard the chair righting itself. "Please," he gestured to her, the tone still far too nice for their current discussion.

Bloom sat back down, forcing herself to maintain good posture even though she wanted to slouch and show how utterly angry she was at them. Out loud, though, all she said was: "I would be very...appreciative, if I could see a list of those improvements myself. For...peace of mind."

"Of course. That won't be a problem."

The response struck her as odd, and looking around the room at the council's faces, she knew something was still amiss. She thought about what had already been said when it hit her. "You're going to have to let him out of here to do this in the first place."

The Man from Isis nodded. "Yes."

"And he's going to need magic to pull off a convincing ruse. Which you don't trust him with."

That earned her a round of chuckles from the group. "No," Green Eyes said. "We certainly do _not_."

"Which is why," the man continued, "we've asked you here. We'd like you to accompany him."

Bloom was so sure he stumbled on his words she smirked, waiting for him to catch the error. But as the seconds ticked by and everyone across the table kept giving her expectant looks, Bloom realized there wasn't an error at all. The smirk fell off her face. "Me? Work with Baltor?"

"We feel it's our best option."

"Really? Why is that?"

"You are the one who fought most with him when he first broke out of the Omega dimension. You come from the same power, which means you'll have a better idea of what you're up against compared to someone else with no history."

"And the two of you _do_ have history," quipped the oldest member of the council, another man with a white shock of hair and drooping skin - Bloom had never bothered to come up with something to call him, he spoke so little.

 _We are bookends. Matching pieces of the greatest ancient magic even to exist_.

She felt her cheeks going red. "Of course we do. But he also has history with the rest of the Winx. Or the Specialists."

"Still, we think you're in a better position to handle him. You would be the one in charge of his powers - a power you're already expert in. We would constantly be checking in on you. And if at any time you felt uncomfortable, you could be pulled out. No questions asked."

That was somehow the most disingenuous thing they'd said to her since she walked in. She knew how the council worked - if they were unwilling to show their faces to the public, they wouldn't stick their necks out for Bloom if something went wrong. Rumors had swirled for years that she was in league with Baltor as a teenager - rumors that had come back twice as hard since his returm. She was powerful, yes, but she was also the easiest person to write off should things go wrong. And she had too big of a heart to refuse them outright - not if it meant other people's lives would be put at risk. It was perfect.

And she thought politics in the magic dimension would be less messy than Earth. She had been _so_ wrong.

"How long do I have to think about this?" Bloom finally asked.

"The sooner this begins, the sooner the magic dimension is safe. We'd like your answer today, if possible."

"...I'd like a second opinion."

The man with the long beard raised an eyebrow. "That's not possible...we can't allow this information to leave the room. If you need -"

"What about the building?"

"I...I'm sorry?"

"You said this information can't leave the room. But what if it stays inside the building?" Bloom raised an eyebrow. "Is that okay?"

The group exchanged looks.

* * *

"So do I get a heads up as to why we're visiting her? Or am I just going to be floundering behind you like a fish?"

"I didn't get any heads up before you threw all this information on me," Bloom gave the Man from Isis a pointed look and leaned back to rest on the elevator wall. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"I couldn't exactly ring you up beforehand."

"I would've accepted a note via carrier pigeon."

"Pigeon?"

Bloom sighed. "Earth bird. They carried coded messages in wars. Which is also _not the point_ , Tom."

She wasn't allowed to say Tom's name around the others - she wasn't even supposed to _know_ it in the first place. She had run into him on Linphea once while she was visiting Flora. He worked on Isis as a banker for its more upper class citizens. He had a wife and a seven year old son with his eyes.

"I am sorry this was all sprung on you. I tried to argue at least a few days to think about it, or even have two of you go instead of one -"

"No. I get it. You need to keep it as small and quiet as possible. I bounce around a lot between Earth and Sparx and Magix, and the press does keep a distance from me despite royalty status."

"Maybe it's because you lit one of them on fire during Solaria's Millennium celebration."

Bloom smirked lightly, remembering a creepy old man who wouldn't stop shoving a camera in her face asking if Sky was going to dump her for Diaspro again. "I did do that, didn't I?"

The elevator _dinged_ and slid open with a soft hiss. They were four stories underground now, the only light coming from the fluorescent strips above them. The floor was a single waiting area with a front desk and chairs that branched into three separate hallways, all lined with cell doors. Besides a man behind the front desk, there were guards at the beginning and end of each hallway. They stood to attention and saluted her and Tom as they passed by.

"Last chance to fill me in."

Bloom glanced over at him. "If I'm really going to do this...I need to know what I'm going up against. Fighting Baltor is a whole lot different than having to work with him. I have no experience in that department, despite what any of your friends up there think."

Tom had the grace to look embarrassed - he hadn't been around the first time she spoke to the Council about Baltor, but he knew she'd spent a solid hour having to deny allegations she was his pawn, secretly in allegiance with him and ready to turn on the dimension at a moment's notice. "If you think it will be helpful in your decision, I fully support you."

"Thank you." They came to a stop in front of a cell door seemingly as plain as the rest of them. "You'll let me take the lead?"

"Of course."

Bloom took a second to take a few deep breaths and straighten her posture. When her pulse relaxed from _rapid_ to _slightly fast_ , she turned to nod at Tom, who leaned forward and pressed a series of numbers into a keypad. A light above the door turned from red to blue, and the door in turn slid open.

The cells in this hallway were the nicest of the three, more resembling a tiny studio apartment than a prison cell. The necessities were there - kitchenette, bed, couch, table, bookshelf, a door to a small bathroom on the back wall. The only thing out of place was a square of metal in the floor, connected to a chain, connected to the ankle of a woman resting on the couch with a book in her lap.

Darcy looked up at Bloom behind the rim of her glasses. "Wow, a visitor. I'm just touched."

Bloom took a breath, which hitched when she heard the door slide closed behind her and Tom. "Darcy."

"And look, the fairy loser brought a friend!" she continued with fake cheer. "A bigwig to hold her hand and protect her from the big bad witch."

Based on tone alone, Bloom knew rising to her taunts would only make things worse. It was her first time seeing Darcy since the asteroid - and Bloom was fairly certain she was the first non-staff to be allowed inside. Instead she looked around, pointedly lingering her gaze on the single bed, single couch, and single mug resting by the sink. "Where's Stormy?"

"Light Rock Monastery. Guess you didn't hear," Darcy smirked when the confusion appeared on her face. "The Council decided the best way to keep us out of trouble was to split us up. I guess after eight years and seven or so attempts we finally made them think outside the box. She'll probably reform, too, the witch. She's always been more susceptible to that hippy bullshit."

"...Not you, though."

Darcy carefully closed the book and set it down next to her. "I know that most of the people in the universe are only looking out for themselves, including me. I don't humor any other line of thought. Does that make me a bad person?"

"...Not _just_ that," Bloom conceded after a moment. "Did they find her yet?"

Darcy and Stormy had been captured in Magix, hiding out in a series of caves leading to Downland and Shadowhaunt. They'd surrendered without a fight, without the last member of the trio there to rouse them into a fight. And despite the weeks of searching and tips being called in (according to Tom) on an hourly basis, no one had seen Icy.

Darcy didn't need clarification, her smirk freezing just long enough for Bloom to realize the question made her uncomfortable. "No."

Bloom nodded, air audibly hissing out through her nose. "I'm sorr-"

" _Don't_." Darcy cut off, a tremor in her voice. "Don't finish that sentence if you want to stay on my good side. Which I assume you _do_ , since you've decided to grace me with your presence. You want something from me."

"I wanted to ask some questions."

The brunette raised an eyebrow. "And what about what _I_ want?"

"Well…" Bloom's gaze slid to Tom, who gave a shrug to her own quirked eyebrow. "That would depend, I guess. I don't have much power here."

Darcy chuckled like that was the funniest thing she'd heard in a while. "Oh please. You're about the most powerful woman in the goddamn _dimension_. Saying otherwise just makes you an idiot, too. Not that you haven't been one before."

Behind her, Tom cleared his throat. "Now -"

"I want weekly phone calls with my sister," Darcy interrupted. "Thirty minutes."

She stared down Tom when she said it. Bloom had a feeling it was because Darcy couldn't manipulate _her_ after the years of fighting, leaving her to square off with the only other option. To his credit, Tom didn't back down, standing straight and staring back unflinchingly. Bloom could feel the heaviness in the room as she glanced back and forth between them.

"Monthly," Tom finally countered. "Working toward the _goal_ of bi-weekly calls, should your behavior remain acceptable and Light Rock approves. And if you provide acceptable answers to Bloom's questions."

Darcy seemed to consider this for a bit, eyes sliding around the room and muttering quietly to herself. She looked at Tom, then Bloom, then back to Tom. "Fine."

With a nod of approval from him, Bloom finally stepped further into the room and sat on the edge of the bed (the sheets were still tucked into the mattress at the bottom where she sat, but crumpled to one side at the top where Darcy had climbed out of bed). "I won't waste your time."

"Because I have so little to waste," Darcy waved her hand around the room, and for the first time Bloom saw cracks in her armor, the hatred she was harboring for being stuck here. Alone. "Out with it, pixie."

"It's about Baltor."

The bluntness seemed to catch Darcy off-guard. She turned her body towards Bloom, giving her the most attention since she'd walked in. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Bloom repeated, then sat on her hands so she would stop wringing them. "When he brought you three back...did he say who he was working for?"

The witch raised an eyebrow. "You think he's working for someone?"

"Do you honestly think he came up with everything himself?"

Darcy gave Bloom a look she had never expected - one with the slightest glimmer of respect. "No. Not after his last attempt to go solo blew up in his face. The Ancestresses have been in my head before. I know Baltor's purpose. Weapon first, person second. Things created to be people second don't make great plans. Then get used by other people to make _better_ plans."

Bloom blinked in surprise. "I...see."

The cracks filled in. Darcy now looked only slightly interested in the conversation. "His royal pain not being very forthcoming?"

"Did you ever see him talking with anyone? Using spells or objects you didn't recognize?"

"Hmm...he found that old crystal ball again. An old spell from Solaria," Darcy clarified when Tom made a noise like he was about to speak. "Using a moonstone. It works like the old witch tales, looking in on people you've crossed paths with."

"Did you ever see who he was looking at?"

"You."

Bloom inhaled sharply before she could stop herself. A chill ran from the nape of her neck to her tailbone, reverberating through her limbs. Flashes echoed in her mind of all the times over the last few months when she felt like she was being watched, or the sensation of something just out of the corner of her eye.

" _Besides_ Bloom," Tom cut in. When Bloom looked over he was staring at her. "Or the Winx."

Darcy's face turned more thoughtful. "Once," she finally said. "Late in the night, right before the seventh piece of the wishing star. I heard him in that gaudy hallway, talking through the crystal. The voices were deep."

"Voices?"

"Yeah. More than one, but talking together."

"What did they say?"

"The usual - taking over the world, having endless power, _don't fail us again_ , yada yada. Something to do with the star fragments. I didn't think much of it. Or care."

"You think Baltor's loyal to these guys?"

She tilted her head and looked at Bloom like a child that had come up and cried it was lost. "Do _you_ think he is?"

Bloom set her jaw and tried not to feel embarrassed for asking such a stupid question. "Baltor's loyal to _Baltor_."

"Smart girl."

"Would you trust him? If you had to work with him again?"

Darcy looked like she wanted to ask more, but the idea was short-lived with a sharp glare from Tom. Instead she reached over and picked her book back up, flipping idly through the pages. "It's like you said, Baltor's loyal to Baltor. It's not about trust - it's about who can give him what he wants, and who can do it faster. If you play that game, you can get what you need from him."

"That doesn't answer my question."

She smiled and didn't look up from the pages. "Yes it does."

* * *

Even just a hallway over, the feeling in the air was much more tense. Cameras pointed at each individual door _and_ down the hallway, like everyone was afraid to miss even a floating speck of dust. Bloom knew there were magic dampeners on the floor - she'd been given a protective band so her own powers would be usable - but this was the first time she could _feel_ it, trying to work through the charm to neutralize her. It made her stomach churn.

Tom, too, had taken precautions before they came this way. They had stopped at a weapons room next to the elevator, where he had taken a pouch with some kind of magic powder and tucked a dagger into his right boot.

"We have an array of magical objects with charms exempt from the dampeners," he'd said to Bloom as she lingered in the doorway, staring at everything. "And practical weapons, if you'd like to borrow one."

She looked around to be polite before she came across a faintly glowing silver cord in a glass case. "You guys have truth lassos?"

Instead of a witty retort or confusion, Tom shrugged. "Makes interrogations easier."

Bloom had it wrapped around her left wrist like a bracelet now, hoping it would help channel her inner Diana Prince.

"If you want to wait back in the lobby," Tom offered, his expression cautious.

Realizing she was drumming her fingers against her thigh, Bloom balled her hand into a fist and straightened up. "No. I need to be here. I'm ready."

He didn't argue with her, and punched in another code like Darcy's cell. The difference was a second later, another panel slid out behind the keypad. Tom pressed his finger to it, an audible _click_ following. Machinery whirled from somewhere in the wall, and a few moments later the light above the door changed.

"Beefier security?" Bloom asked lightly as he brought the finger to his mouth to lick off the excess blood.

Tom just smiled before stepping inside. Bloom followed.

Bloom had a faint idea of what to expect - she'd seen the feed of Baltor in the cell when she was upstairs. But somehow, it still surprised her to see him, sitting on the edge of a plain bed (arguably the nicest thing in the cell - and this was far more like a prison cell than Darcy's quarters) in a white long-sleeved shirt and loose pants. His eyes were sunken in with dark circles around them, both ankles shackled. His hair was - somehow - perfectly kept, but tied up out of his face.

And unlike Darcy, who pretended to be uninterested in Bloom when she arrived, Baltor's eyes went right to her and _stayed_ there. She did her best to ignore it, keeping her posture formal and saying nothing.

"You'll be thrilled to hear we've come to an agreement on your sentence." Tom started, obviously trying to keep Baltor's focus on him.

It failed. His gaze didn't so much as flinch. "...Is that so?" Baltor asked, his voice gravelly from apparent disuse.

"Yes. Your execution order will be rescinded, in exchange for the capture of your master."

At the word _master_ , Bloom saw a dark look flash across his eyes. "For a one-way trip to the Omega Dimension?"

"You could stay here if you'd like," Tom said. "But we keep getting budget cuts - worse food in the cafeteria, fewer locks on weapons closets, more issues with the cameras in your cell. Not to mention most of the guards here hate you. It'd be a shame if they got any ideas in between getting the connections back up."

Bloom stared at Tom in shock. The look on his face was one she hadn't seen before - thinly veiled rage. Tom was usually the one on the council who could maintain his composure. She didn't realize he held such a grudge.

The only reason she didn't say anything outright was because of a laugh - _Baltor's_ laugh. She snapped her head back to see he'd never taken his eyes off her. And he was _amused_. "Now, look what you've done. You've appalled the first guest I've had since I got here."

Bloom gulped and raised her chin defiantly. "...It's not like you wouldn't deserve it."

He smiled. "I suppose not. Hello, Bloom."

She didn't say anything back.

"It's the best we can offer you," Tom said pointedly.

"I'm also aware it's the _only_ thing you'll offer me." Finally, Baltor turned his gaze away, and Bloom let a breath out. He flashed Tom that smirk she'd come to know so well. "At least Omega keeps me alive. So I will work with you."

"Oh, I'm not the one you need to worry about working with."

The smirk fell right off his face. "What?"

"I have other obligations. You certainly didn't think we'd be sending you alone, did you?"

Baltor stood up, and Bloom understood instantly what was going on - he was getting ready for an argument. "I knew you weren't an idiot, yes. I figured limited magic, camera drones, a ridiculous safehouse and plainclothes guards."

"Looks like you were wrong. Again. A two-person team draws less attention and wastes fewer resources."

Baltor looked to Bloom again, running his gaze slowly up and down her body like he was contemplating a coat on a mannequin. "No."

Bloom raised her eyebrows in surprise. " _No_?"

"Give me someone else. Someone less conspicuous."

Tom's face barely changed, but Bloom could tell he was surprised. "That's not an option."

"It's going to have to be to get what you want."

"What's wrong with me?" Bloom asked, trying not to sound offended.

"Everything." In a complete reversal of their entrance, Baltor barely spared her a glance. "She's one of the most recognizable faces in the dimension, for one thing. Can't the council give me a different babysitter?"

"The council are the ones who chose her."

Baltor gave an exasperated sigh and sat back on the bed. "Of course they did."

"She's smart, she's resourceful, she's beaten you _twice_ now -"

"Yes, she has." Baltor rolled her eyes. "How very observant of your ilk. Which is why it's going to be _suspicious_ when I show up to meet my contacts with her in tow. You may as well send me in handcuffs and her pulling me on a leash."

" _She_ is right here." Bloom finally snapped.

She almost wished she hadn't said anything, as Baltor turned his full attention back to her. But now instead of curiosity, he was visibly annoyed. He stood back up, and with very calculated steps, made his way to her.

"These people -" Baltor stopped, shook his head. Began again. "These _beings_ are not something you're used to dealing with. You will not be able to handle it."

"Didn't you say that to me about yourself once?"

The comment earned her half a smirk. "You think you can do this because you've faced me? Or the Trix? Or Tritannus? It's different."

"How?" He was within arm's reach now, but Bloom held her ground (and she had very little space to retreat into). Inside her chest, her heart was beating rapidly. "Help me understand."

"The people you've fought before - myself included - had varying methods to reach a goal of total conquest of the dimension. But we were all smart enough to realize when that point was reached, we would still need _people_ to rule over, to have under us. My master does not share that sentiment."

"...So he's dumb?"

"So he has no problem killing in cold blood. Men, women, children. All barriers in the way of a goal."

While the words were worrying enough, what bothered Bloom more was Baltor's expression as he said them. There was no trace of his usual dramatic flair or smugness. After avoiding them at first, she finally settled her gaze to match his. His eyes were piercing, and serious.

"The people working for them," Baltor continued, keeping his eyes on hers. "Will think the same. They won't not show restraint because you're a princess, or an attractive woman. They will kill you without question. I need someone willing to do the same."

Slowly, Bloom shook her head. "But...that doesn't make sense. _You_ didn't do that. So why would they come to you in the first place?"

He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised she hadn't figured it out yet. "I'm not a person to them. I'm an owned necessity. The most powerful one, created by the Ancestresses."

This caught her off guard, but Bloom realized it seemed to be a common theme today. Both Darcy and the council at large seemed to think of Baltor as a means to an end, just one that walked and talked.

"That still doesn't change anything." Tom's voice broke the tension in the room, though only slightly. "We'll monitor you as closely as we can under the circumstances, but as of now this has been approved as a two-person Level D operation. You two. No room for argument."

In the blink of an eye the dramatic, openly cocky Baltor was back. " _Well_. I suppose it's better than not dying. But Level D? That's the highest classification the council gives, isn't it?" Baltor turned back to her, smirking again. "No one outside the council and the participants filled in. Don't tell me I only have the pleasure of dealing with _one_ Winx."

Bloom put on a fake smile. "Afraid so. Just me."

"Hmm. My favorite, at least."

Her jaw locked. Something shifted on Baltor's face, a darker emotion slipping behind the smirk. There was the lightest sensation of touch as she felt his hand brush up against one of hers, a purposeful move. Bloom knew Baltor well enough to recognize the game. He was trying to get under her skin, make her break in some way. More than likely trying to make her back out of the deal.

Out of the corner of Bloom's eye, she saw Tom shifting uncomfortably, trying to figure out the best way to diffuse the situation.

Bloom didn't turn her full attention to him. She needed to stand on her own two feet, especially if _this_ was the kind of thing she would be dealing with now. Carefully, without breaking eye contact, she reached her little finger out, forward until it brushed the back of Baltor's hand. He raised an eyebrow, and Bloom gave the faintest smile, slipping the finger around and into his half-closed fist.

Then she took another breath, reached over with her other hand, and slipped the silver cord from her wrist to Baltor's in a single movement. "Do the people you're indebted to scare you?"

"Yes," Baltor replied easily, then blinked in surprise. He snatched his hand away. "Wha- How did you -

Bloom reached out and took his wrist, mostly so he was unable to get at the cord. "Do you know their names? Where they're from?"

He gritted his teeth, trying to fight against the magic and her grip at the same time. Both battles were lost. One breath, then two. Then, practically spat at her: "No."

"But you _do_ know where to meet them when we leave here? That's real, not just a lie to try and escape?"

"I-It's real. I was given specific instructions."

Baltor reached for her, and she intercepted his other hand. "If given the chance, would you betray me during this?"

His eyes went wide. "I...I-I -"

"Answer the question, please."

"I...I don't know. It would depend."

Bloom pursed her lips thoughtfully. She hadn't expected that. "Do you think you need me for this?"

Baltor looked ready to strangle her, but a moment later both wrists went limp in her hands. "...Yes. I do."

Smirking herself, Bloom let go. Baltor jerked away from her, fumbling with the lasso for a few moments before pulling it off his wrist and throwing it. It was so light it only travelled a few inches before delicately fluttering to the ground. He was breathing hard, and sat back down with an audible creak from the bed.

Bloom reached down and carefully took the cord, winding it up into a loop around her wrist again. "This thing's fun," she said to Tom. "Do you have an extra I can bring?"

" _No_ ," the other man replied firmly. "But I can get you a keycard for this floor and the weapon's closet, should you need to come back and _properly_ check anything out."

Bloom smiled as Baltor's face became even more uneasy. "Deal."


	2. Chapter 2

The questions were all expected.

_ What do you mean the Magix Council sent for you? What did they say? Why is it classified? Can one of us come with you? Does Ms. Faragonda know what’s happening? Do your parents? What the hell are they up to? Can I still call you? To check up? _

Aisha - oddly enough - was the only one to say something Bloom didn’t expect.

“You shouldn’t be guilted into this.”

Bloom blinked, looking up from throwing clothes into a small suitcase. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Her friend sat backwards in Bloom’s desk chair, looking unconvinced. “The Council’s smart. Earth has a humanity the rest of the dimension doesn’t. And they use it for themselves. We save the world on a regular basis, Bloom. We don’t owe them anything else.”

She twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “It’s not because of that.”

Aisha raised an eyebrow. “Then do you want to tell me what it  _ is _ because of?”

“It’s...I caused it. In a way. But it’s not a big deal,” Bloom added when the other girl continued to give her a doubtful look. “A week at most, if it all goes according to plan.”

“And you’ll have backup?”

“The Council is going to have someone checking on me daily.”

Aisha sighed dramatically, but didn’t say anything else, well aware there was no point in arguing. But that didn’t mean she would give up. Briefly, Bloom wondered if she was going to take things up with her father - Andros had one of the oldest monarchies in the dimension, and had pushed the council around a few times (which was a few times more than any other planet had managed).

“I know what I’m doing, Aisha.”

_ Liar _ .

Her friend said nothing, but took a small rectangle from her pant pocket, tossing it expertly to Bloom.

She caught it mid-air, turning it in the light cast through her window to get a better look. “A flashdrive?”

“Tecna’s newest gadget.”

“Pretty old school for Tecna, isn’t it?”

“Old school works when you don’t trust whatever plan your best friend’s being thrown into,” Aisha replied pointedly. “Just...it’s there if you need it.  _ We’re _ here if you need it.”

Bloom smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know. It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

Aisha smiled back, but it was the polite smile Bloom knew she gave during royal events with her parents when she wanted to seem calm and collected but felt none of those things. The princess of Andros reached up and squeezed her hand back, then walked out of the room.

* * *

The last thing Bloom expected was to walk out the front door of the Council building in downtown Magix with Baltor.

So of course at a quarter to three the next day, Bloom walked out the front door of the Council building in downtown Magix with Baltor, clad in two gold magic-cancelling cuffs and the best disguise spell magic could muster, while she held a majority of  _ his _ power in a red stone, attached to her throat with a reinforced silver chain.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, looking out at the crowded street and the city around them. The expression on his face was unreadable, but Bloom saw wheels turning in his mind, examining every detail and putting together who knew what kind of plans. His chest rose with a deep breath no one would take if it wasn’t their first time out of a building in weeks. Even then it surprised Bloom. Magix smelled like car smog, like the Linphean curry restaurant down the street, and had the faint taste of metal in the air from different spells being cast in such close proximity.

It had lost some of its  _ magic _ over the years in Bloom’s mind. It was like Los Angeles or St. Louis or any other big city she had visited.

After a few seconds, Baltor seemed to come back to himself. Her gaze must have been heavy because he turned to her then, that hint of superiority back in his eyes.

“Well then.”

Baltor started down the stairs in front of the building. Bloom blinked, momentarily baffled, before going after him.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“Teleportation station for off-world travel.” He swiveled to face her, walking down the remainder of the stairs backwards without trouble. Bloom rolled her eyes before she could stop herself, and from the way Baltor’s lip curled he was pleased with the reaction. “You’ve lived here a while, haven’t you? You must know it’s three blocks west of here.”

It was her turn to give him a pointed look. “That’s a mandu shop now. The transportus station moved behind the Magix Museum. You  _ blew up _ the last one five years ago, remember?”

“I did do that, didn’t I?”

Bloom tensed, and quickly tried to shake it off and appear unaffected. “Look, where is it we’re even going? Do we need supplies?”

That seemed to slow him a bit, and he waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. “What did they give us, anyway?”

She patted the seemingly normal bag slung on her shoulder while trying to ignore how surreal her current situation was. “Untraceable phone and credit cards, some magic-laced crystals for protection, a tracking device -”

“Let me see one of the cards.”

Her murderous look did nothing to deter him. Wordlessly, Bloom reached into the bag and felt around for the envelope containing the credit cards. She slipped one out and passed it over, making sure they wouldn’t have to physically touch. If Baltor noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Impressive,” he drawled, turning it over in his hand. “But absolutely traceable.”

“But they said - ”

“I’m  _ sure _ they did.” Baltor gave her a pitying look, but slid the card into his pants pocket. “But if the Council can track purchases on these, so can anyone I work for. Still, they could be of some use. We can withdraw the necessary funds here in Magix before we leave.”

“And where  _ exactly _ is it we need to go?”

“Ever been to Vallisto?”

Bloom bit her lip, temporarily lost in a feeling of embarrassment. “No. Princess Varanda isn’t fond of me, nor are her parents.”

Baltor raised an eyebrow at that, but when she didn’t elaborate further he let it drop. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not going to the capital - it’s the only place they’ll show their faces. We’re headed for Littus, the biggest city on the planet. Come on,” he waved a hand at her and began to walk down the street. “We’ll need a few thousand credits, maybe an even ten to be safe.”

Under the cuff of a white button-up shirt, a gold cuff winked at Bloom. Tom had given her the basic rundown of their abilities that morning. While the primary function was cancelling out magic, they had other uses. Before thinking of the repercussions, Bloom tried one of those other uses. She drew an octagon in the air at her side, doing her best to not attract the attention of passersby. The magic hovered until the shape was completed, then lit up and flashed red.

Baltor froze on the street mid-stride, caught off guard based on the  _ whoop  _ he let out. Bloom came up so she was standing next to him, walking in the slowest possible stride. It achieved the desired effect - the look he gave her was borderline feral.

“Let’s get some things straight here.” She leaned back against the building they were next to, trying to appear calm and collected. “I don’t like you, and I don’t trust you. You may know these people, but don’t get confused:  _ I  _ am in charge. And that means every  _ plan _ you have - from meetings to how much money we withdraw, goes through me. They are  _ our _ plans. You either follow that - follow  _ me _ \- to the letter, or we go right back inside where I get to watch your head get sliced off in a guillotine. Clear?”

The look fell away from his face. Bloom could see Baltor’s eyes clearly in the afternoon sun, see emotions dancing in them. Some of them were readable, but many of them were not. 

That itself was the problem. There were too many unknown factors about Baltor and his behavior. Bloom couldn’t predictit it, no matter how hard she tried or much she had researched Baltor or what the Magix Council believed. That left her relying on brute strength, which seemed nearly impossible as a five foot five girl with no muscle who needed a stop spell to make the man she was  _ supposed _ to be in charge of stop and listen to her. Bloom had beaten Baltor twice before, but those were tests of  _ magic _ , with at least eight other people helping each time. Going one on one like this was a different game, composed of wits and lies and keeping one party underneath the other at all times (which was  _ stupid _ , because Baltor knew more about the people they were facing then Bloom did).

It was a game Bloom was terrified she would lose, and even more terrified because she knew  _ Baltor _ knew she would lose at even the most minor slip-up.

And Bloom had never been perfect in the Magic Dimension.

Finally, after what felt like minutes, Baltor sighed, the fight retreating from his eyes. “We should withdraw ten thousand credits, that way we won’t have to come back here for a few days - hopefully not at all. And then we should go to Vallisto. Things will be easier to go over there.”

“Why there?”

“People in Magix  _ know _ I was being held here.” Despite his more submissive demenour, Baltor still looked at Bloom like she’d asked a stupid question. “It puts them on edge,  _ and _ they know you spend time here. No one on Vallisto is as paranoid, nor will they be expecting to find you. Especially if what you say about their princess disliking you is true.”

She felt momentarily embarrassed, and hoped her cheeks weren’t turning pink. “Ok. Fine. There’s a bank by the transport station. We can withdraw the funds there.”

“Good.” There was a pause, and Baltor gave her a pointed look. “Mind  _ un _ sticking me, or should I ask someone to strap me to the roof of their hovercar and drive us there?”

“O-Oh.” This time Bloom  _ knew _ her cheeks were pink, and she undid the octagon of magic still floating by her right hand. “Sorry,” she stammered, somehow both the truth and a lie.

He stretched his neck and arms when the spell let him go. Bloom heard several  _ cracks _ from the bones in his back. “I doubt that.”

* * *

If Bloom had instilled any fear in Baltor outside the Magix Council headquarters, it was gone by the time they reached Vallisto. Littus was a beach city, plain and simple, with beautiful people and tourist traps and golden sand and ocean for miles in both directions. Baltor knew his way around more than Bloom did, and directed them to a small internet café (or whatever the magical dimension’s equivalent of an internet café was) a block inland from the beach. Bloom ordered some food, and rented two datapads to look for lodging and order basic supplies (also Baltor’s idea - doing it on two separate devices would be more difficult to track). Sitting at a table in the corner, no one spared them a glance aside from the waiter who brought them their sandwiches.

“You’ve  _ really _ never been here?”

“I’ve  _ really  _ never been here.” It was strange watching Baltor eat. Bloom knew he had to - even people who looked less human than he did in the dimension ate - but it was something she had never really thought about him doing. It felt too normal. “You hadn’t either, as far as anyone knew - you never looted Vallisto, this year or when you first broke out.”

“I was given maps, but knew better than to get involved with the people or government.” Bloom stared at him blankly, and Baltor rolled his eyes. “Of course they wouldn’t teach you  _ modern politics _ at a school mostly attended by royals. Faragonda always hated ruffling feathers. Or at least  _ those _ kinds of feathers.”

“Maybe if you bad guys would give us a year to just  _ take classes _ .”

Baltor pointedly ignored her jab, instead flicking the screen of the second datapad. A moment later, a holo of the planet popped up.

“A majority of the planet is water, with the biggest land mass being mostly desert,” Baltor narrated as Bloom moved the holo under her fingertips. “The capital is the center of the continent, but most people live along the coast and various archipelagos.”

Bloom flicked her wrist, and a small popup with the planet's basic statistics appeared. “Tourism is a big draw, that much I know. And Vallisto is the universe’s top exporter of silicon, mostly to Zenith. That makes them one of the richest planets in the universe - right at home in the Fourth Upper Ring.” She paused to look over at Baltor. “Which begs the question -  _ why _ would a group of evil beings be here?”

Instead of answering, he reached out and touched the holo. The planetary statistics vanished, replaced by basic information of the star system Vallisto was located in. “What other planets are in the Fourth Upper Ring?”

“...Eraklyon and Isis.”

“And?”

Confused, Bloom looked back, and stopped when she saw a name highlighted in red with an asterisk next to it. And, written at the bottom of the readout:  _ No longer populated _ .

“Dyamond,” Baltor continued when Bloom still didn’t say anything, “was the final planet in the ring. It can be seen in Vallisto’s night sky. And  _ that _ is where most of my contacts were originally from.”

This struck Bloom as surprising. “People from Dyamond survived its freezing?”

“Roughly thirty percent of the population. Four to five million. Vallisto was the closest habitable planet, and an ally up to that point.”

She swiped at the screen to pull up more figures. “With three million of those people living here. And…” Bloom blinked at the screen, making sure she’d read the numbers correctly. “Sixty percent of that three million living below the poverty line? That seems high.”

“Rich people look out for themselves first and foremost.” A couple walking by gave Baltor a look, and he gave a nasty smile that sent them scurrying away. Bloom couldn’t chide him before he went on: “Isis, Eraklyon, and Vallisto had close relations with Dyamond before its fall - all four were very affluent places. But when Dyamond froze over and there was nothing left to bargain for, its people started showing up  _ here _ and taking resources, the response was... _ unkind _ , to put it mildly. And the people of Dyamond responded in turn. Much of the underground scene is run through them - drugs, weapons, prostitution, and the like.”

“And in a tourist city.” Bloom looked into her coffee. “The perfect place to hide, with so many people coming and going and the government not caring about what you do. That’s awful.”

Baltor scoffed. “That’s the world. People are nice until you have nothing left to offer them. You should know that.”

Bloom tensed, finally looking back at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t? Do you think the Council asked you to accompany me because they  _ like _ you? You’re as much of a pawn in this as I am.”

He was right of course, but Bloom refused to admit it. Instead she looked back to the first datapad. “There are a few places we can stay that take cash. How close do we need to be to the city?”

It took a few moments for Baltor to respond, and during that time she felt his gaze boring into her skull. “The closer to the main square the better. Though if there’s anything on a more secluded street, that would be preferred.”

There was, on a side street near the mountains that separated the city from the desert, but still within walking distance of the square. “Fine. We can check in in an hour. Order some supplies we can pick up on the way there - food, water, whatever else we need. A datapad if they have it. That was one thing Tom didn’t give us.” 

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“You’re attractive when you’re in charge.”

She bristled, but refused to look up at him. In the reflection of the datapad screen however, Bloom saw him smirking.

* * *

The place Bloom had found was more of a bungalow - a small, single-story thing that was, besides a wraparound porch facing the mountains, very unmemorable. It seemed more like a place to sleep in between exploring the city rather than a home, but she supposed that’s what made it the perfect place to lay low. The woman who gave her the key seemed nice enough, talking about how she owned the other four houses on the street. They were currently the only ones there, but a  _ nice group of boys from the Linphea College _ were coming in on Friday afternoon.

Bloom hoped they’d be done by then.

The inside was dated - like her aunt’s house, untouched since the mid-nineties. Through the doorway to the kitchen, Bloom saw a bottle of champagne and two glasses on the island counter.

“What a warm welcome.” Baltor made a beeline to it, examining the label.

“I told them it was our anniversary.” Bloom set down the small booklet of house rules she’d been given on the entry table, smirking as Baltor’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “Figured two people booking a rental less than a day in advance and  _ then _ asking for privacy would be suspicious. Now it just seems like a last-minute celebration.”

Baltor got his facial expression back under a control, muttering something about a  _ good call _ while he popped the cork of the bottle. Instead of a glass, he opted to drink straight from the source, taking several long gulps. Bloom raised an eyebrow in mild distaste. “Thirsty?”

“I’m out of prison. Cause to celebrate, don’t you think? Especially since my days are numbered.”

Bloom didn’t say anything to that. “I’m going to put my things away and secure the perimeter. Do  _ not _ leave.”

He gave her an obviously fake smile and lifted the bottle back to his lips.

She went down the small hallway to one of the two bedrooms, throwing her suitcase (which had been miniaturized stored in her jeans pocket) and bag onto the plain green bedspread before sinking down to the floor. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she forced herself to take several deep breaths. 

_ How the  _ hell _ am I going to do this? _

One thing at a time. That was how the whole thing had to be. Baby steps, and she would come out the other side just fine.

After throwing some clothes into the closet, Bloom got to work on the protection barrier. The crystals were far more powerful than anything she could access at Alfea. Setting up a shield around the perimeter was as easy as drawing a line in the air. With most spells a magical being could feel its cost - nothing was free, after all. Energy required energy. A barrier around a space as large as the bungalow  _ should _ have left Bloom feeling like she’d run up several flights of stairs. But instead her heartbeat quickened for several seconds before falling back into a normal rhythm. 

She stared at the glowing green rock, roughly the size of her index finger, marveling at the power. Tom’s threat of violence towards Baltor yesterday had seemed excessive, but it was now apparent it would have been child’s play to kill him, had a guard set their mind to it. Between the crystal and the weapons room, Bloom wondered what else the Council had just laying around in that building.

There were two crystals left. Bloom decided to use one of them for a perception filter to keep anyone who accidentally wandered onto the street from getting too close. Unlike the barrier, it would need to be somewhere in the open to reach the edges of the property. Bloom decided the kitchen was the best bet, and went back to place it on the windowsill above the sink. 

She saw Baltor out of the corner of her eye in the living room, and decided the sooner they got down to business the sooner things would be over. “So, when should we meet up with this contact of yours?”

There was a pause that seemed a beat too long. “Give it a day. With the Council acting cagey and the guards not allowed near my old cell, rumours will start spreading. Shouldn’t take them too long to make it here.”

“You have a lot of faith in leaks. What about in the meantime?”

Something about Baltor’s laugh seemed strange. “How about you stop acting like I’m going to blast you to the next planet, and come have a drink?”

“I’m shocked you left any champagne.” Bloom walked into the living room, only to find Baltor with a glass and a different, open bottle of alcohol. He lolled his head to give her a look, and Bloom was surprised to see his eyes were unfocused. She stared at him incredulously when he didn’t respond. “Are...are you  _ drunk _ ?”

“Calm down. Vallistan alcohol with  _ magic _ .” His speech wasn’t slurred, but it seemed much more airy compared to even an hour ago. Baltor pointed to the bottle on the table. “Gets into your system quicker. Probably a hostess’s nod to the  _ happy couple _ .”

“Right. What a horrible woman, trying to do a kind thing for people she thinks are in love.”

“Love is complex and overrated.” Baltor sat back on the couch without even sloshing his drink. “It makes people weak.”

Bloom scoffed at him. “Having affection for someone isn’t a weakness. It takes  _ strength  _ to love.”

“It takes  _ brains _ to realize there’s a difference between love and reliance. Or even love and sex. Figuring it out makes life easier.” He reclined on the tan leather, giving her a pointed look. “I would’ve thought that’d be the case with you, by now.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she stalked over and took the glass out of his hand, setting it on the table. “I guess I still believe in  _ silly _ things like  _ you rely on the people you love _ . Or even  _ you should have sex with people you love _ .”

“It’s certainly easier with people you don’t.” Baltor rested his chin on his hand. “But I get the feeling you don’t believe me.”

She huffed in response.

“But if you’re interested in further proof,” he deliberately trailed off, and Bloom was caught off guard when he pulled her close with the belt loops of her jeans. Baltor nestled his chin into the flesh of her stomach, just below the navel, staring up at her. “I’m more than happy to oblige.”

“Baltor -”

Before she could continue, he let his tongue dart out and drag along her stomach, dampening the chiffon of her shirt and the skin underneath.

Bloom went very still.

“It’s easier,” he continued, almost conversationally. “Less messy. Emotionally, I mean. No fear of what the future holds, no shame about what you like. It’s pleasurable, it’s freeing, and then it’s over.” He inched the fabric of her shirt out of her jeans, toying aimlessly at its hem before sliding his fingers over to the buttons running down the middle of the blouse.

“Unless of course it becomes a regular sort of thing. A transaction, almost, maybe even with money involved. I never did get that desperate...do you mind?” He fingered the bottom button and looked at her expectantly.

She raised her eyebrows, saying nothing.

Taking her non-response as  _ yes _ , Baltor began undoing the buttons and letting the blouse fall open. “You’re too easy, you know.”

Though she knew responding was exactly what Baltor wanted out of her, Bloom couldn’t help it. “What do you mean, too easy?”

He didn’t look up, but she saw his lips widen. “Too easy to wind up. I barely have to  _ try _ to get under your skin. It’s funny, if a little sad. The council could have picked a  _ worse _ person to babysit me, but it’s a short list.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, the other times you underestimated me didn’t go so well.”

“Mmm, that’s not the point I’m trying to make here.” At this he slid a palm under the fabric of her shirt and up her stomach. His hands were warm, but Bloom still shivered at the contact. 

“W-What...what  _ is _ the point, then?”

“You don’t want to be here,” Baltor said the words as if he was disappointed, but Bloom recognized the theatrical tone. She was achingly familiar with it, and for a moment seemingly hundreds of taunts were ringing in her ears.

_ Oh I’m sure you’ve heard rumors about big, bad Baltor, but I’m not so bad. Once you get to know me. _

“I can’t say I blame you,” Baltor continued, almost absentmindedly. “What was it you said?  _ I don’t like you, and I don’t trust you _ ? But that can’t matter when the fate of the universe hangs in the balance and the Magix Council  _ needs _ you, can it?”

_ What’s wrong? Don’t you  _ want _ to be the hero? _

“What matters to me is none of your business.”

“But it  _ can _ be my business.” Bloom felt a single finger slide up and trace the red stone at her throat. “We’re on the same side, Bloom. You don’t want to be here with me, and I don’t want your help beyond staying back and keeping a low profile. We can help each other. In more ways than one.”

The alcohol was obviously having an effect, since this was the first time Bloom was able to pick up on Baltor’s motivations. She slowly reached out and took his hand, pulling it away from her neck. “So, just to make sure we’re on the same page, is this an attempt to have sex with me, or get me to give your powers back?”

“What’s so wrong with both? Powerful women are my type, and with your powers  _ and _ mine together in one body...well. It’s certainly difficult to resist.”

Bloom felt something slide over her shoulders, and her blouse fluttered to the floor and pooled around her feet, leaving her in jeans and a black bra. She was able to spare the fabric a glance before her gaze was drawn back to Baltor, running his knuckles along her stomach, slowly inching towards her breasts. He caught her eye and flashed a lazy smile, his eyes lidded. “Bloom,” he drawled in that low voice. “You do so much for everyone else in this universe, give and give and  _ give _ . Take something for once, for no other reason than it’s being offered and there are no expectations. Share a little pleasure with me.”

For several seconds, she said nothing. Baltor’s hand skirted just beneath the underwire of her bra, the other settled at her hip. Bloom looked down at his hands, then back up at him. Very slowly, she reached up, cupping his jaw in her hand.

That sly smile turned into a smirk. “There, that’s a good -”

Bloom pulled her hand away, balled it into a fist, and sucker punched Baltor in the jaw.

For a five foot five girl with no muscle, it was surprisingly easy to knock him unconscious.

Hurriedly, Bloom reached down and grabbed her shirt, sliding it back on while taking several steps backwards, almost bumping into the living room table. Baltor didn’t make a sound, nor did he move apart from his chest rising and falling with breath. It seemed he’d be out for a while.

She turned and headed back towards her room, but not before taking the bottle of alcohol  _ and _ the glass to pour down the kitchen sink.

Entering the bedroom for the second time, the dated walls green bedspread were a comfort. Bloom turned to lock the door, only then realizing her hands were shaking. She balled them into fists, knocking them against her legs in an attempt to release the excess energy she was feeling.

Everywhere Baltor touched her was tingling like she’d been hooked up to a car battery. It was a new feeling, and in any other situation she might have described it as pleasant. But the knowledge Baltor was the one to cause it made shame flush through her. There had to be an explanation for it, something like a reaction to Baltor coming back in contact with his own powers, or an excess spike in Dragon Fire, or even a result of the infused alcohol. But before Bloom could come up with a rationalization, the duffel bag on the bed started beeping.

Bloom nearly jumped out of her shoes, a fireball springing to life in her hand as her eyes shot to the door. It was a few seconds later, when the beeping started again, that she recognized the noise. A ringtone.

The cell phone the Council had given her.

She let out the breath she’d been holding in anticipation, the fireball dying out just as quickly as it had appeared. Bloom went over and opened the bag, rummaging around until she came up with the slightly older model phone. A number she didn’t recognize was flashing on the screen with a Magix designation code.

“Hello?”

“Bloom.”

“Tom,” she sighed in relief at the voice. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry about that. Wanted to give you a few hours to settle in. Our tracker has you on Littus, near the southern mountain range about half a mile from the coast.”

“Yeah. That’s...we’re in a rental. Setting up a base of sorts. The perimeter’s secure with those crystals you gave me.”

“Good, good. Are you okay? You seem out of breath.”

She cast a look to the bedroom door, listening for any sound from the living room. There was still nothing. “Yep, all good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Also_ also staying from the 4Kids dub: Vallisto instead of Callisto. Because Varanda of Vallisto flows better, and I was halfway done writing the chapter before I realized it varied by dub.
> 
> A big thanks to my partner in crime [BloomValyria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloomValyria) for betaing this chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Staying from the 4Kids dub: Baltor instead of Valtor, Sparx instead of Domino (because yes, I know RAI tried to make Sparx into something else in Winx-cannon, but I am a stubborn bitch), and Diaspro being from a different planet (Isis) than Sky.
> 
> I also have a dedicated Winx [tumblr](winxwannabe.tumblr.com), if you'd like to stop by.


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